Perhaps For One Day More
by The Tiramisu Of Impending Doom
Summary: two parter Sequel to At Least. Vincent gives his response to Tifa's and Marlene's gifts.
1. Part 1

Perhaps For One Day More – part 1

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and its wonderful characters belong to Squenix/Square/whatever-its-name-is/rich Japanese guys, so don't try to sue me… But the story belongs to me.

Everybody, make sure you read "At Least" before this… I fixed a few minor details in it to make this story fit better… Anyway, read the first one so a little thing like "Christmas" doesn't confuse you. I mean, really, look at the calendar… Heheheh… I was one month off in my estimation, by the way. ENJOY!

* * *

After Christmas flew by, Tifa Lockheart felt that the New Year's Eve celebration passed just as swiftly. Her guests had plans to leave too, just after they counted down to midnight, and she would cherish the moments she had left with them before they decided to run away from her again. She was still a bit disappointed that she couldn't see Cid, but she figured that there would be plenty of opportunities to see him and Shera in the future.

Marlene had long fallen asleep in Barret's arms, but that rest was immediately interrupted in the next minute when Yuffie screamed for joy and blew into a party favor, and the young girl's eyes flew open wide at the sudden interruption of her beauty sleep.

After a moment, Barret let out a sigh and stroked Marlene's cheek. The young girl yawned helplessly and sent bemused doe eyes to Yuffie's general direction.

"Where the hell did she get one o' those things anyway?" Barret demanded, narrowing his eyes at the Wutaiian girl as she danced around the room cheerfully. "Wakin' up my Marlene--"

His eyes widened when Yuffie suddenly scooped up Marlene in her arms and spun around the room. Marlene, still barely awake, even managed to giggle as the ninja girl made goofy faces at her during their uninhibited spinning.

Grumbling incoherently, Barret glanced at the clock hanging on the wall.

"What the—"He glared at Yuffie. "Girl, it ain't even midnight yet!"

But Yuffie was too busy twirling with Marlene.

Earlier that evening—like one of the many evenings after their Christmas party—Tifa had sat them all down in her living room and talked about their lives. Except Vincent, who chose to stand in the doorway of the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest, silently observing them as always. She didn't want to press him into sitting with them and talking about his past. She knew better than that, and his replies often left much to be desired. Some people may have seen him as snobby because of his aloof behavior, but she knew better than that too; Cloud and the others had also been more considerate about his manner, and simply took it as it was. Especially since he decided to stay even after Christmas was over.

She remembered looking over at Cloud in those hours before, her heart lightened by the sight of his rare, crooked smile, made even more genuine by the fact that he was unaware of her scrutiny. She had to admit that it was good to see him, even if he couldn't love her the way she wanted him to.

"So Cloud," she'd said cheerfully, turning to face her friend completely, "how've you been?"

He'd sipped his drink, set it down on the table and then licked his lips, his eyes darting about as he gathered his thoughts and his smile faded as the entertaining moment with Yuffie past.

He'd bent his head. "Well, Tifa..." He'd raised his eyes to glance at everyone around the table, but she couldn't help but notice that he barely settled his eyes on her. The corners of his lips were raised, on the verge of a smile, and he lifted his head and his face visibly brightened. "I found someone... She's a nice girl…"

"Oh—no shit!" Barret leaned back in his chair, impressed. Marlene had been in the other room, drawing; he wouldn't have sworn had she been in the room, even though she was probably used to his profanity slipping out every so often by now. "So what's she like?" he ventured.

Tifa didn't want to hear. She didn't want to know how the young woman was everything she was not, who probably looked exactly like Aeris, who probably wore a pink dress and had sparkling emerald eyes. And who could forget that innocent giggle and those blessed dimples on her cheeks? And her charm?

"She's a red-head," Cloud had explained, "with dark brown eyes and a nice smile. She's a good girl, and spunky. We've only dated a few times but I'm looking forward to our next meeting..."

_Damn it, Cloud,_ Tifa thought. _I know you don't love me but do you have to talk about her like that? Can't you just be quiet and say 'whatever' just like you always did whenever I said something meaningful to you?_

Tifa had opened her mouth to speak, to say that she had to go check on Marlene so she wouldn't have to hear anymore of this. But when she looked up, her gaze collided with Vincent's, and he uncrossed his arms to stride down the hallway towards Marlene's room. As always, his gaze was unreadable, so she could hardly imagine if he'd sensed her discomfort, felt bored by the conversation, or simply wanted to check on Marlene for himself. Either way, she'd lowered her eyes in disappointment for her lack of excuse to leave the table at her disposal, and drummed her hands on her knees, barely listening to Cloud and Yuffie as they suddenly made an exchange.

And that's when she suddenly felt guilty at the direction of her bitter thoughts. Didn't Cloud have every right in the world to do what he wanted and to be with whomever he wanted? Didn't he deserve it? She shouldn't have felt so bitter...

Drawn back to the present by the comeback of Yuffie's party favor, Tifa shook her head out of her trance and she stepped into the kitchen to pour more drinks for everyone.

To her surprise, the dark, elusive ex-Turk stood at the counter with his back to hers, holding a glass with one hand and holding a champagne bottle with his claw. He'd filled three glasses already, excluding him, Yuffie and Marlene, Tifa suspected. However, her eye caught sight of chocolate milk in a flowery cup. For Marlene.

She approached him silently and said, "That's nice of you, Vincent." She believed that he knew she was there long before she spoke, but it was always so hard to tell with him.

He shrugged and twisted at the waist, offering her a filled glass. "For you, Tifa."

She smiled brightly and took the drink from him. "Thanks, Vincent... Aren't you going to have any?"

He shook his head.

After a moment of awkward silence—of which whenever she stood by Vincent were many—another thought finally popped into her head and she asked, "So, are you going to stay for a few more days?"

He shook his head. "I think I have stayed long past my limit, Miss Lock--er... Tifa." She smiled faintly. "I have already packed to leave tonight."

"But it's so late!" Tifa protested, even though she well knew how Vincent preferred the dark and solitude of night compared to the noise of day. "Can't you at least leave tomorrow morning?"

He shook his head again, whether in declination or in defeat of her persistence, and then took the remaining glass for Cloud and the cup for Marlene.

She furrowed her brow and leaned in closely to whisper, "Why didn't you pour Yuffie any?"

* * *

He stopped abruptly in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room and cast and bent his head towards her. Flatly, he quietly explained, "Miss Kisaragi informed me that she wanted a soft drink... but she doesn't trust me to prepare her one."

She smirked and murmured, "I'm sure she's just teasing... but maybe Yuffie doesn't need any alcohol in her system anyway."

"Agreed." The intentions and concerns of the Wutaiian princess typically meant something annoying for him anyway.

The two continued into the room. Once they distributed the champagne, Vincent glanced about for Marlene, holding the cup of chocolate milk in his hand, and crinkled his brow in bemusement when he couldn't find her. Had she gone to bed?

He twisted at the waist to glance behind him, and then something tugged on his cloak on the opposite side. He turned back around to find Marlene lightly pulling on his cloak, her brown eyes wide and her smile adoring.

"Oh, there you are..." She'd grown taller since the first day he met her, for certain, but to Vincent almost everyone looked vertically challenged. He knelt down so they were at closer heights and offered her the chocolate milk.

Happily, she took it from him and smiled wider, if possible, before eagerly downing some of her drink in seconds. He took comfort in her silently content company for awhile before rising to his feet.

At this opportunity, Vincent thought it would be a good idea to get his things together. So he could leave first thing in the morning, before everyone woke up.

* * *

"...I'm gonna hate going back to Wutai tomorrow!" Yuffie was saying, her nose picking up the smell of Tifa's apple pie in the oven, almost ready to be devoured. "I won't be able to have any of Tifa's cooking..."

"Oh, Yuffie. We can always visit," Tifa assured her.

Tifa watched Barret at the corner of her eye as he carried his sleeping Marlene out of the room and down the hallway, much to the girl's silent protests of "I'm not tired yet" and "I want to eat Tifa's pie," to which he replied, "Don't worry, we'll save you a piece."

Yuffie glanced over at Cloud, who bent to pick up his bag, or 'crap,' as she called it, and then muttered, "Where the heck are you going, Strife?"

He raised his eyes to Yuffie, then over to Tifa, and back to the shinobi. "I... thought I'd get going."

"Without having Tifa's pie? You're worse than Valentine!" Yuffie accused. Vincent hadn't even emerged from his room to wish everyone a happy New Year. "I bet you a billion gil he's gonna come crawling back to the living room after he catches a whiff of Tif's pie... Barret too."

Tifa was ready to defend Vincent, as he'd poured drinks for everyone. At least he wasn't made of stone…

Cloud shrugged and scratched the back of his head. "Whatever." Ah, there was the Cloud everyone knew so well... Tifa could tell that Yuffie was ready to slap him upside the head.

Tifa approached him gingerly, her hands behind her back. "I can't even convince you to wait so I can cut you a piece for the road?" she coaxed.

He smiled at her. "Thanks, Tif, but I think I'll pass... Besides, I've bothered you enough already..."

Tifa threw up her arms in defeat and walked away, half-jokingly muttering, "Why does everyone think that they're such a huge opposition?"

"Goodnight, Tif," Cloud said as though he hadn't heard her. "Thanks for your time." And then he was gone.

Tifa bit her lip as she looked over her shoulder at the front door, not quite sure whether she should be angry or crestfallen at what just occurred, and then Yuffie came up out of nowhere and put an arm around her.

"Oh Tifa," Yuffie consoled without her usual loud voice this time. "You're such a sweetheart. Cloudie's just being a dumb-ass—look at him." She threw her hand up towards the window, where they could see his lean figure silhouetted by the street lights in the darkness. "He didn't even stop to glare at me, the jerk. He doesn't care. Personally, I thought he was being a lot nicer earlier..."

Tifa managed to laugh through her nose and made a weak smile, and then looked at Yuffie gratefully. "Thanks, Yuff... I think you're being a little harsh, but he's always been that way. So nonchalant. I wish I could pull off that pretense as easily."

"Yeah, you're pretty transparent," Yuffie easily agreed, her ebony eyes twinkling with amusement.

Tifa pursed her lips and her eyes blazed like fire, but behind that threatening expression was a smile dying to get out, and she burst into nervous laughter. "I'm gonna kick your ass, Yuffster." She put up her tensed fists to reinforce her point.

The shinobi put her hands on her hips, smiling broadly at her ability to push Tifa's buttons. "I've actually humbled myself enough to know that you can, Tif..."

The timer for the pie beeped just before Tifa could respond, and Yuffie's eyes nearly popped out of her head in her excitement. "Oh, finally!"

She made a mad dash for the kitchen, Tifa following closely behind. _I hope she remembers to let it cool first, _Tifa thought to herself, and reached for the pair of flower-patterned oven mitts.

Barret had soon returned too, and by the time they were finished, Tifa doubted there would be much pie left.

* * *

Vincent left his room around three o'clock, his feet making no sound as he crept across the dark hallway towards the lighter kitchen; Tifa probably left the light on just in case one of her guests needed a drink or something. He stepped across the tiles of the kitchen and instantly picked up the lingering scent of her pie. The pan still lay in the sink and the pie on the table, wrapped securely in a piece of cellophane. There were two plates and a pair of forks set on the table as well, though Vincent couldn't imagine eating anything at this hour, especially since he was surprised that there was any pie left anyway...

He drew back one of the chairs and seated himself down, careful not to make the wooden chairs screech on the tiles, and then began to finish up cleaning his guns.

_Be serious, Valentine... There's another reason why you came here..._

Unfortunately, he couldn't imagine what that reason might be, so he continued working, unperturbed by the thoughts creeping into his mind.

His concentration as of late had been interrupted often; not necessary by thoughts, but by physical beings. Tifa and the others. He didn't remember when this sudden change in his character occurred, this change that made him feel closer to them, making him vulnerable. He couldn't remember when he first let his guard down. By many people, he'd been told to let loose, and each time he'd refused to let that tension go, but now it seemed almost inevitable but to relax; Tifa and Marlene made it impossible to do otherwise.

A noise came from nearby, a heavy sigh. His hand stilled on the gun piece he'd been working on, and his eyes slid upward. With heightened senses, he waited for a moment as he tried to imagine where that sound came from--certainly not from his own lips. At once, he thought of intruders, but then recalled how safe the town had been recently and simply discarded the notion. He glanced across the room where he could see into the living room, though Yuffie the others were in their respectful beds in the guest rooms. Perhaps he expected to see Yuffie and Tifa sleeping on the couch, having passing out just after chattering endlessly, or even Barret, finishing up the paper or perhaps watching television.

He lowered his eyes to his work on the Death Penalty again, pretending that the sound simply came from another room, until he heard another sound. A soft voice, producing a song he'd heard recently but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Furrowing his brow, he carefully put his gun back together, his eyes inexorably sliding down to the tablecloth with growing suspicion.

Perhaps someone wasn't sleeping after all.

He placed the firearm on the table and then leaned back in his chair, awkwardly straightening so he could lift up the tablecloth with his claw and peer underneath the table.

Marlene sat cross-legged underneath the table, dressed in pale blue pajamas, her eyes glued to a book with a flashlight in her hand, illuminating her heart-shaped face.

He quirked an eyebrow at the peculiar sight—the girl could have been reading in her own room. Perhaps she was simply being creative. At some point, he intended to address that matter, but now he thought of asking her why she was awake at this hour.

"I'm concerned about your sleeping habits of late, Marlene," he informed her.

Alarmed at being discovered, she lifted terrified eyes up to meet his gaze, and closed the book in her hand quickly. "Vincent," she stammered.

He sighed and then pushed his chair back so he could kneel down underneath the table with her. Gently, he eased the book out of her grasp and spoke in his low monotone while he looked it over.

"And what are we reading...? Fairytales, Miss Wallace?" He thought it was fitting for a girl her age. He sent his crimson gaze to her face intently, but opted for a change of tone.

"Are you unable to sleep?" he asked gently.

She seemed to look a bit more at ease, probably when she realized he wasn't going to reprimand her and send her to bed instantly, as Barret or Tifa would have done. But she still appeared to feel guilty, and she lowered her eyes and her lower lip protruded out.

"I wanted to read... but I didn't want to miss anything... since everyone always sends me to bed earlier..."

"Everyone appears to be asleep now… You probably won't be… missing anything," he reasoned.

"Well, _you're_ awake," she pointed out.

Since he couldn't really argue with her, he just patiently waited for her to continue.

"...I don't really go to sleep sometimes. I just stay in bed with my eyes open and listen to what everyone else is doing. I couldn't sleep tonight." She played with the flashlight, shining the light on the underside of the table. "...I thought that if I read out here someone would come out... and I could talk to someone..."

He didn't think a girl like her would be lonely, but apparently that was the case. He appreciated her honesty in the matter, but something else troubled him. "Have you talked with Barret about this?" he murmured.

She shrugged. "A little... I told him… that I don't like to play with the other girls. He says that I'm better than the other girls and that I don't have to worry if they don't like me or not..."

He gave a single nod of agreement. "You don't have to worry about what others think... and yes, you are probably better than the other girls your age..."

She smiled shyly at him and then averted her eyes again.

"Why don't you want to play with the other girls, Marlene?" he inquired after a moment.

She fell silent then, her eyes roaming the floor as though she'd find an answer there among the tiles.

"Why don't you?" he persisted gently, studying the floor as though he might discover the same thing as she. Truthfully, he thought he knew the answer to his question already.

"Because..." She stalled a bit, and then tilted her head to a side, bringing her eyes to the double-row of buttons on his black shirt. "...I prefer adults sometimes... I don't know why."

She was certainly more mature than most of the children her age; he knew that already. "You know that not all children are as immature as you think... don't you?"

"...Yes..."

"...Would it be fair of me to say that you're just shy then, Miss Wallace?" He hoped he hadn't offended her by the comeback of his address to her, since he still hadn't been able to break out of his own strange social habits yet.

She looked up at him in alarm, perhaps shocked or apprehensive that he figured her out so easily. And then she timidly regarded her book again. He imagined that she wanted it back, but he wasn't ready to give it up just yet.

He tilted his head to a side as he curiously watched her deal with her conflicted thoughts. He didn't think she was as shy as she used to be, but even someone as cheerful as Tifa had moments like these.

_There I go, comparing her to Tifa again,_ he criticized himself.

There were a few more moments of silence, before she spoke to him again, the last subject forgotten. "Vincent…?"

"Yes?"

"…Are you leaving tonight?"

His plan to leave tonight had wavered because of Tifa, but he would leave sometime before the sunrise, when most of the guests were asleep, to acquire the belated Christmas gifts for Marlene and Tifa. Already, he was despairing what he could get for Tifa that would possibly compare to all the wonderful things she gave him…

"I will leave before dawn," he informed her. She didn't need to know the rest.

"…Why don't you ever say good-bye to anyone? Don't you like us?"

He swallowed and forced himself not to look away from her round eyes, and chose to answer the easiest of her questions.

"Of course… You are all good people…"

She waited patiently. Apparently, he wouldn't be able to escape the other question.

He sighed and shifted his position, minding his head underneath the table. "It's not simple… but… I suppose you can say I'm…"

"…Are you shy too?" she interjected.

"In a different way, Miss Wallace," he answered slowly.

She crinkled her brow, uncomprehending.

"…I do not wish to… depress you with my thoughts," he said awkwardly. "I think it is a story for another day…" _But I can't promise that I'll ever tell you…_

Her face saddened a bit. "Well… Can you at least do me a favor?"

"Of course," he said with a nod, grateful for the switching gears. "What can I do for you?"

"…Would you have some pie with me?"

He was taken aback. It was a simple request, when he had expected something much worse, but he had reason to decline.

"…It's a bit late for pie, don't you think?" He raised an eyebrow at her, his lips twitching to suggest a smile, but Marlene wasn't watching him very closely and completely missed it.

"I don't think I'll be sleeping for awhile," she said, looking disappointed at his refusal.

He studied her face for a long time, and then conceded, "Very well, Miss Wallace… But I think only one piece… Your father wouldn't be pleased."

Completely disregarding his comment about her father, her smile returned after a long absence, and her eyes brightened at his ultimate acceptance. "Thank you, Vincent!" she whispered loudly, and then crawled gaily out from her hiding place, switching off her flashlight to greet the dimly lit kitchen.

Vincent released a heavy sigh and then glanced down at the book she'd been reading. Tucking it under his arm, he moved out from underneath the table to rise to his feet and place the book on the table with care.

He reached for his gun and set it aside, even though Marlene would probably pay no attention to it when she had pie to consume. Anyway, she was far too mature to pick up his gun anyway.

Marlene sat down before one of the table settings, a mischievous smile on her face. He wondered if she planned this from the beginning, table settings and all, counting on him to be awake at this hour. The same thought from before tugged at him: Did he deserve such company?

He sat down next to her, watching her boldly reach across the table to remove the cellophane and then cut a piece of apple pie. He raised an eyebrow as she plopped a large piece onto his plate, and then as she placed a much smaller portion into her own dish, breaking the piece in the process.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, a bit amused as she slid the remnants of the pie from the knife and then licked her fingers.

She shook her head.

What type of a young girl didn't drink milk or juice with her pie, he wondered? And then he berated himself—this was Marlene Wallace, not an ordinary young lady.

For the first few moments of eating, neither spoke a word, but they both thought the same thing, that Tifa's pie was worth dying for.

"So Vincent…" She was talking a little louder now, probably forgetting that there were others asleep. "…How long do you think you'll be gone?"

He stopped in mid-chew as the question startled him, but then continued when he thought up a good reason.

"For a long time, I imagine…"

"Tifa was saying that she was thinking of moving too… since Nibelheim has so many bad memories… maybe Kalm… or Wutai with Yuffie. I don't know…"

He furrowed his brow at this sudden change in topic, patiently waiting for her to carry on.

She took another bite and mumbled with her mouth full, "I hope she doesn't go… because… daddy and I… we were going to rent an apartment here so we could stay with her…" She swallowed and then poked at the pie in her plate with her fork. "…because she gets lonely, I think…"

He remained quiet, unsure of how exactly to approach this problem. He believed that Tifa accepted visitors because of her loneliness, but also because she was a good friend, and anyone who cared to look would surely notice the sadness behind her eyes. All the friends she'd lost, all the tears she'd shed… all the love she missed out on… with Cloud…

He lowered his head so his hair fell into his face and closed his eyes. He knew all too well about such a tragic story of unrequited love. Why Cloud chose some 'spunky' red-head over Tifa would remain a mystery to Vincent. Perhaps Cloud felt unworthy, or maybe he just didn't love her because when they met they were younger, and their affection could never grow because inconsistency in youth…

Why was he thinking about this? It shouldn't have mattered to him. After tonight, he wouldn't see Tifa or the others anymore, he hoped. Except for belated Christmas gifts for Marlene and Tifa, which he would drop off in a clandestine manner, there would be no more reunions. He would go live in the Icicle Area or perhaps make multiple homes for himself elsewhere. He would travel and attempt to live again, but he didn't think he could remain composed if he stayed with the others. Too many memories would awaken unwanted emotions. He'd let himself slip too much already. After the holiday season, there would be no more of this. They didn't need his company anyway...

He and Marlene finished eating in silence, but once she was done and looked at him with such a sad look in her eyes, he felt compelled to ask, "What's the matter?"

She frowned. "Well…"

He waited patiently.

"…Are you going to isolate yourself for the rest of your life?" she asked softly.

"What?" he asked icily.

"…Never mind…" She grimaced, probably disappointedly.

Quiet, again, as the room went several degrees cooler. He should've known this would be a problem, to sit down next to the girl with pie and expect no conversation. Was he that brainless? Now, he felt guilty for hurting Marlene with the unexpected comeback of his insensitive demeanor. Perhaps he was better off not talking at all, the way he used to be before this. But his life had changed drastically ever since Cloud came to the crypt to awaken him, and ever since he met Tifa and the others, so could he really control how his behavior was now?

"…I'll… return you to your room, then," he said after a few minutes. A glance at the clock told him that it was only a few hours before dawn. He needed to get going.

The shy girl nodded in compliance and then dutifully brought her empty plate to the sink.

He was grateful, although surprised at her easily concession. It was his fault for changing the atmosphere. Being the coldest bastard on the planet, he wouldn't apologize no matter how much he wanted to, but instead consider ways to punish himself, and leave her in the dark. He didn't mean to, but he simply could find no other way to stop this…

He walked her to her room and knelt down beside her bed as she crawled underneath the covers. She didn't even look at him, but turned on her side and murmured, "Goodnight, Vincent…"

He swallowed hard and lowered his eyes guiltily. "Sweet dreams, Miss Wallace…"

He clenched his jaw and rose to his feet, willing himself not to look upon her again; else he'd surely find a reason to apologize for his erratic behavior.

He would return to the kitchen, clean up the dishes and do anything else he could for Tifa, before he'd remove all trace of his presence from her house and excuse himself.

They wouldn't see him the next day when he brought gifts to her house, before leaving for good.

But he didn't even reach the door.

"Vincent…?"

He turned towards the girl again, irritated that he hadn't escaped in time, but not exactly upset with Marlene. "Yes?" he responded lowly. He half-expected her to ask him to read her a bedtime story, as it was not too far-fetched from eating pie after midnight.

"…What does 'unrequited love' mean?"

He swallowed hard as he stood in the doorway. He was hardly able to conjure an appropriate answer even though he knew very well of the phrase's definition and all the pain it carried. But how could Marlene possibly know this…?

Why was he acting as though she was trying to torment him on purpose? Marlene would never do such a thing.

"From where did you hear that phrase?" he returned.

She shrugged and turned onto her back so she could stare up at the ceiling, bending an arm behind her head as a second pillow. "I heard Yuffie muttering about it… about Tifa… I think… and I've been thinking about it… and there's no dictionary in the house, so…"

He almost smiled at her explanation, and he approached her hesitantly as he tried to figure out the best way to explain it without bringing back too many painful memories. That, of course, was a laughable way to approach this simple problem.

_This isn't a problem; you're implying one where there isn't any. Just answer the question, Valentine..._

He knelt down beside her bed and draped his claw across his knee, looking down at the girl calmly. "Unrequited love… is when a person loves someone who does not return those same feelings…"

Her face suddenly grew sober with realization, and he watched with dismay as a deep crease appeared on her forehead. "Oh…"

"…Is that all you wanted to know?"

"Yeah," she said thoughtfully. "Thanks, Vincent." She smiled weakly at him and then he gave her a single nod in reply before rising to his feet again.

Ah, it wasn't as bad as he expected it to be, or so he thought.

"Have you ever loved someone who didn't love you back, Vincent?" she asked as he made his way towards the door.

He nodded slowly as he crossed the threshold and glanced over his shoulder at her. "A long time ago, Miss Wallace…"

"Oh… Was she pretty?"

He stopped suddenly. "She was the most beautiful woman I had ever known," he informed her truthfully. But beauty, of course, was not the only reason he was drawn to her at the time.

"…I bet Tifa's prettier," Marlene said softly, and as he silently walked away from her, he couldn't find any fault in her judgement.


	2. Part 2

Perhaps For One Day More – part 2

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and its wonderful characters belong to Squenix/Square/whatever-its-name-is/rich Japanese guys, so don't try to sue me… But the story belongs to me.

I want to acknowledge my brother for his brilliant ideas with this part of the story, since I was stuck and basically uninspired before he helped me out… He has a lot of ideas but he says he can't write. Bah. Anyone can write. Anyway, I think he did it because he loves VincentXTifa as much as I do… well… maybe not… Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this last part. Thanks again to all those who reviewed part one, in case I forgot anyone in emails and such…

…And thanks to whatevergirl: Your email isn't on display and everybody else got a thank-you email and I feel bad. :sniffle: But yeah, Marlene's getting more from Vincent than Tifa is, isn't she? Hopefully this part changes things a bit. Also, to "a reviewer." Very mysterious penname indeed… Thanks for your review! I was hoping that this would improve "At Least." Please enjoy part two…

* * *

New Nibelheim was so quiet, now that Christmas was over, she thought. There weren't too many customers today, since people were probably sleeping in after staying up late for New Years parties, and florists were never too busy, except for during Valentine's Day or Mother's Day, and sometimes on birthdays. There were a few customers here this morning, but only one of them caught her attention.

He'd been standing there, waiting for her at the door, when she was ready to open the place at 8:15. He looked so damn imposing, tall and dark, with a black outfit and then a red cape to top it off. He'd looked up at her emotionlessly with blood-red eyes, she thought, but it could have been a trick of light or her already untamable imagination. She had to admit that his claw looked somewhat bad-ass as well. She thought she'd seen him somewhere before, but never from up this close, and now that she had the opportunity, she felt safer behind the counter, where the shotgun leaned against one of the drawers. Just in case the dangerous man was more than just a scary costume…

She kept her eyes on the dark man as he suddenly moved to study the chrysanthemums. A pretty funny sight, she thought, seeing this dark, pale man standing amidst lively colors and pretty things. Perhaps he had yet to shop for a sweetheart. He seemed pretty eager to get in here anyway.

She stood up and then leaned forward, putting her elbows on the counter as she craned her neck to follow his movements around her store.

"Hey, sir, can I help you look for something?" she called after him. The sooner he left the place, the safer she'd feel, after all.

He slowly lifted his gaze to her—with those creepy eyes of his—and then shook his head before picking up some white chrysanthemums and moving on.

_Okay, whatever, Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Evil-Dude, I wouldn't want to bother you anyway… Geez._

She shrugged and then sat down on the stool behind the counter so she could fiddle with the radio next to her.

A few minutes later, the dark man was walking by the roses with white chrysanthemums and pink carnations in one arm. He'd taken quite a bit of time making his purchases, standing still for a few moments so his eyes closed with thought. She wondered what had been on his mind. He'd stopped by the roses for a moment, noting each of the colors, and as an afterthought, he picked up a single pink rose, before making his way towards her.

She turned the radio down a bit and stepped over to the cash register as he approached the counter.

"Good morning, sir," she greeted him, as though she weren't just glaring at him or dubbing him 'Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Evil-Dude.'

He looked up at her, seemingly at a loss for a moment before he replied, "Good morning."

She smiled at him as she took the flowers from him. "Would you like these flowers delivered, sir? We can have them delivered today, if you—"

"No thank you… I will deliver them myself."

"…Oh… alright…" As she figured out the prices, she idly wondered, "So, is this for a girlfriend or something?"

"Or something," he informed her, his eyes looking down at the floor.

He must have been guilty for being so late with his gift. Flowers were the best way to warm a girl's heart, though, so perhaps if he made that pouty face as he gave the girl flowers, she'd forgive him.

_This always happens when the weird customers come in…_

She sighed. It was tough, being a romantic and working in a flower shop. At least she didn't read romance novels. Besides, her imagination was wild enough for her to play out scenes in her head.

* * *

The lady in the flower shop had acted strange, studying him first with fear and then suddenly acting light-hearted when he approached the counter, assuming he'd had a gift for a lover or wife, and then she offered to add more to his bouquet, to make it look fuller and more extravagant. But he wanted to keep it simple, and he asked for the single pink rose to be left alone, excepting to cut off the thorns. Marlene would appreciate that, he thought. 

He'd stood in irresolution for some time in the flower shop, suddenly remembering something about the meanings of flowers, something from long ago. He'd lifted a hand to finger the delicate carnation petals before his eyelids drifted downward as the memory played out in his mind.

"_Vincent, do you know what these flowers mean?" Lucrecia gathered a few into her arms and closed her eyes with a heavenly sigh._

_He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at the plants dispassionately. "…No, Lucy, but I imagine you're going to tell me."_

"_These carnations... Some say that they mean gratitude."_

"_And those over there?" He gestured to the white flowers, taking a step towards her._

"_White chrysanthemums? Truth…"_

"…_And what of those?" He pointed to the red roses, and then he moved until he was right beside her._

_She looked at him then, noting with pleasant surprise the unanticipated softness of his steady, brown-eyed gaze, and then she smiled broadly. "The red roses mean love, Mr. Valentine… and you should know that."_

_And he promptly showed her that he did indeed know the meaning, and Lucrecia's flowers soon slipped from her hands and fell neglected to her feet._

He'd been taken out from his reverie when someone in the store brushed past him, and he realized that he was spending too much time thinking… about Lucrecia… when he needed to focus on the task at hand…

His next place of business was the bookstore, and he had a pretty good idea of what to get Marlene.

He began humming the song that he'd had stuck in his head for quite some time now, while he began thumbing through a few fairytales from the bookshelf. Once he picked up something that had a possibility of being interesting for Marlene, something that didn't look like anything he'd ever seen in her collection, he made his way to the cashier.

At the corner of his eye, he spotted something familiar and froze for a moment. There was a small rack with a few sketchbooks on display, and one of them had a gray and black cover, like the one he'd seen Marlene drawing in. Did she need a new one? Surely another couldn't hurt…

He picked it up and continued on his way, frowning as a thought occurred to him. Besides flowers, he couldn't imagine what else Tifa might enjoy. At least, he couldn't think of anything special.

What could he…?

He couldn't put his finger on it, as the song continued off his lips, and even after he bought Marlene's books.

He decided to return to the mansion, to gather his thoughts again, before he'd deliver his gifts to Tifa's house. He figured that Tifa and the others would be awake by now. He just hoped that they wouldn't be home when he made his deliveries…

* * *

The first day of January, and it snowed more than it had for Christmas. Therefore, it was no surprise when Marlene and Yuffie both decided to play in the pristine snow after their breakfast, with Tifa following closely behind in her heavy winter coat.

She was disappointed that Vincent left without a note or anything, even though she knew he was leaving. She suspected that he wouldn't be staying in Nibelheim either… and she didn't know what to think about that. At least, she didn't want to think about it anymore…

"Barret, do you want to come outside?" Tifa asked in the doorway. "It's so nice…"

"…I suppose so… I won't be doing any of that crazy snowball-throwin' business though.

I'm an old man, you know."

She smiled weakly and said, "Well, hurry up. We're headed towards the mountains for awhile…"

By the time Barret and Tifa got there, Yuffie and Marlene had already engaged in a snowball fight, enjoying the last moments they would have at their friend's house, even though there would be other opportunities to visit.

"Watch out, Yuffie!" Tifa warned. "Marlene may look quiet, but she's vicious with a snowball!"

Marlene giggled and struggled to run in her obstructing snow pants, and bent to gather a ball of snow into her hands.

Yuffie hid behind the nearest tree and shouted, "I'm not going down so easily! Marlene, let's join forces!"

Instantly taken with this suggestion, Marlene suddenly turned in place, her eyes twinkling with mischief as her gaze locked with Tifa's.

"You wouldn't dare," the woman said softly as the little girl came closer.

Marlene laughed and tossed the snowball, but it landed at Tifa's feet. Afraid of Tifa's retaliation, the young girl ran back to Yuffie for protection, but apparently there was some sort of betrayal going on.

She felt a sudden merciless coldness at her neck, and she screamed as Yuffie poured more snow down the back of her coat.

Tifa gathered a snowball into her hand and ran to assist the young girl, even though she had just planned an attack on her person.

Barret just shook his head as he watched from a distance, tempted to grab a snowball and throw a few at Yuffie, with enough impact to knock her down, but he was much more curious at how Marlene and Tifa would act.

Yuffie mercilessly bombarded Marlene with snowballs, while the young girl attempted to throw a few random piles of snow at her, since she had little time to make her ammunition.

Yuffie cackled evilly, just before a snowball was launched at her face and into her mouth. She spattered a threat to Tifa, who giggled at her small victory and then immediately bent to shape another snowball.

The fight was long and tedious, and they each disputed who emerged victorious, even though everyone now had a red nose and snow soaking through their pants and hats.

Even though Yuffie claimed that it was her victory, Barret muttered to himself, "Marlene's game, hands down…"

Tifa smiled at his unrelenting pride for her, and then said breathlessly, "Alright everyone… let's go have some lunch…"

"Lunch time, already?" Yuffie asked, scratching her head.

Barret glanced down at his watch. "Tha's right… It's about noon."

"Well, alright then, Tif. You pick a place!" Yuffie was all for it, and she had every reason to be—this was the last few hours they had together before Yuffie went back home and Tifa was still undecided on her plans for moving.

* * *

After having set down the gifts in the foyer, Vincent thoughtfully stepped through the old mansion. He'd been the only one living here ever since Sephiroth's defeat, and he'd burned all sorts of remnants from his pasts—notes and books from Professor Hojo, wiped away all the dust and removed moth-eaten sheets. Kept the piano, though he wasn't sure why…

He had rights to this building, and it was almost like a secret base to him, a place where he could hide, but he couldn't imagine staying here much longer.

He went upstairs, still murmuring the unrelenting tune of the song, and his feet were mysteriously drawn to the room with the piano.

He paused in the doorway briefly, well aware of the power this room held, and then stepped inside, his eyes on the ebony and ivory piano keys. He could hardly picture himself playing anymore, not with the lack of dexterity from his claw. But he sat down on the bench and lifted his right hand to the keys, and then quickly withdrew his fingers, as though a spark had gone through him.

Clenching his jaw, he tried again, his long flingers splayed across the white keys and absently pressing on the ones that would match the tune that had plagued him for the entire day.

It was then that he remembered from where he heard that song. Tifa and Marlene were the ones who hummed it on Christmas day, but more specifically, he remembered that the famous song was also of a great composer…

Tifa didn't play the piano much anymore. He'd caught her seated at her piano a few times, frustrated and impatient with herself as her fingers stumbled over the keys. Was it all because of her pain from Cloud, or was she simply uninspired?

The composer's name came back to him then… _Dionisi_… The man was dead long before Tifa's time, as well as his own… But she would still appreciate his sheet music, couldn't she? She was always humming whenever they traveled with Cloud and the others before…

… He would have loved to hear her play the piano, but he simply couldn't be there when she returned. Another time, perhaps, he would stand beside her as she played, to see her swaying with the music she played, to see Marlene sitting next to her and turning the pages for her…

Another time—in a dream, for he knew that in reality it could not be…

…but couldn't it? No. He wouldn't fool himself.

He shook his head to push the thoughts away and then rose to his feet. He'd delayed enough; it was time to leave.

* * *

Barret set down some gil on the table and stood up. "Sorry to leave… You're my favorite ladies an' all, but… I've gotta go take care of a few things." He winked at Marlene, and she smiled, but she couldn't have known his plan to get her another sketchbook on his way back home. She seemed low on paper the last time he saw her drawing…

Tifa smiled as she played with the straw in her drink and told him to take care, while Yuffie appeared somewhat oblivious, craning her neck to watch for the waitress so she could ask for another beverage. And then she whipped her head around to go, "Oh, bye Barret..."

"Bye, Yuffie…" He ran a hand through Marlene's hair and she quietly looked up at him, smiling weakly.

"Dad, can I go too?"

"Nah, you hang out with the ladies… I'd bore you to death."

She lowered her eyes in disappointment, but he knew that within moments of Tifa and Yuffie's company, she'd feel better. It hurt him to leave her like that, sometimes, and one day he would have to sit her down and explain himself to her…

_Yeah, and what're you gonna say to her, Wallace? "Aw, baby, I don't know what to do with you. Maybe I should send you off to live with someone else…" _

No, he couldn't say that, because he loved Marlene more than anything in the world, and somehow he would just have to figure out this whole "parenting" thing, no matter what. He would do it for her, and he would do it for himself.

He left the small café then, mindful of the time as he went to buy another sketchbook for Marlene.

On his way to the store, he saw a flutter of a dark red cape moving away from Tifa's house, and then he stopped to look, but there was no one there.

"Valentine?" he muttered. _What the hell—I thought he left already…_

Maybe it had been a trick of light anyway. He shook his head and continued to the bookstore.

* * *

Yuffie felt a tinge of regret, leaving Tifa even though Marlene and Barret agreed to stay for awhile, which Yuffie assumed was because Barret needed someone to take care of Marlene. At times, his manner with her seemed awkward, as though he didn't know what quite to say, and Tifa would somehow always notice those moments and save him by distracting the girl. It was interesting to watch this common exchange, and Yuffie thought it was curious that everyone probably didn't expect her to be so aware of her surroundings. Perhaps she didn't fit the description of a ninja so well. Her father didn't think so either…

She smiled to herself as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder, and half-turned to look up at Tifa, who stood in the doorway, probably dutifully waiting for her friend to disappear with her chocobo before deciding to turn away and shut the door.

"Thanks for everything, Tif," she said, and then hurried back to her friend for a quick hug. "That pie was good—so good that you shouldn't be surprised if I come back later for more."

Tifa gestured back to the kitchen, her eyebrows lifted. "Would you like me to make you some pie for the road…? It wouldn't be a problem."

Tifa was too sweet for her own good, and as evil as she could be, Yuffie didn't think it was wise to take advantage of her friend's generosity. "Oh, no thanks… I had my fill last night," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "If you recall…"

Tifa smiled brightly. "Yeah, that belching… so lady-like," she commented. But upon noticing Yuffie's blushing cheeks, she quickly recovered with, "It's okay though, Yuff…"

"Heh… Yeah, I guess I am quite the lady… aren't I? Alright, I'd best be off… Thanks for everything, Tifa. I'll see you soon!"

"Yes—you better! You can always write too, if you want… and tell me about all those lovely Wutaiian boys you meet…"

"'Lovely Wutaiian boys?'" Yuffie repeated. "Are you kidding? They're all like… EIGHTY!"

They giggled at that for a few moments, making a few more comments about the type of men they dealt with, unaware that Barret had heard them and was now muttering to himself about how worried he'd be when Marlene noticed boys.

Yuffie could hear, however, when Marlene showed Barret her new sketchbook. "What?" he asked. "Where'd that come from? I only bought you one…"

Her attention drew back to Tifa, whose steady smile would always be in her thoughts.

"Okay, Yuffie… Have a safe trip…"

"Later, Tif… I'll miss our snowball fights."

Tifa nodded. "Likewise."

After a bit more exchanges of memories with her friend, Yuffie finally turned away and left, with her eyes on the ground so she could step on thin layers of ice and break them as though they were glass shards.

She wondered if Tifa would feel better or worse, now that Cloud seemed to have completely moved on. After Aeris died, he certainly seemed different. A little less of a wise-ass, maybe, but then in the recent years he'd regained his ego and became laid-back again. She supposed that after saving the world, the man deserved a break. Yuffie thought it was damn inconsiderate for him to go out with some other chick, though, when she had seen the way Tifa watched him...

_Men… What morons…_

* * *

Barret was muttering to himself about how he only got Marlene one sketchbook, and he'd wondered where the hell the extra one came from, and then he wandered off to his room, probably getting ready to leave with Marlene in a day or two. Tifa didn't mind anymore; she could deal with it, now that she knew she was able to keep them at least until today. It had been a beautiful holiday.

She was tired, though, and she would have to go back to work tomorrow… A nap would probably be wise, and it would probably distract her from all the things she felt right now.

For some reason, she did feel a sense of loss. Not for Barret or Marlene. Not for Cloud or Yuffie… or anyone else… except…

Vincent. She felt like something was wasted, the way he just left after she _thought _they could move their friendship along. The man only appeared cold, but in many recent instances—particularly those when he was with Marlene—Tifa knew that this frigid manner was only something on the exterior side of Vincent Valentine. Heaven forbid somebody got Vincent to put his defenses to rest so he could ease down a bit and have a grand time with friends, but these things took time, and Vincent was a unique case anyway. She was willing to help him in this, but she doubted he would let her until she found him, and she didn't even know how the hell she'd do that…

Moreover, she was a little upset, and felt a little cheated, that he didn't get her anything for Christmas. Or Marlene. She didn't expect anything at first, but… perhaps she simply assumed too much. She'd been so happy when he agreed to come celebrate the holiday, and that must have been so hard for him, but her hopes were too high and then he left her. She should have expected it, instead of being so oblivious and only trying to hear what she wanted to hear, and see what she wanted to see… When would she ever learn to stop that?

She slumped down to the couch in the living room, thinking to take a nap, where Marlene was drawing in her new sketchbook. There was also a beautiful pink rose stuck in the young girl's hair, which Tifa thought was a bit odd. She didn't remember anyone going to the florist recently.

She furrowed her brow. "Hey, Marlene, did Barret get you that pretty flower?"

The girl shook her head and smiled weakly. "No, it was on my bed… The sketchbook was there too… and a fairytale book… I think Vincent brought them for me…"

"Vincent?" she echoed in disbelief.

She stood up again and looked out the window, as though she might catch Vincent moving about outside, but the elusive man was nowhere in the street. Did she expect him to be leaning up against a tree with his bags and things at his feet, waiting for her to approach him to say their goodbyes, his red eyes steadily watching her?

She was acting ridiculous, she knew, and she suddenly forgot why she wanted to take a nap. She left the living room and wandered back to her room, feeling miserable.

Vincent gave something to Marlene, but not to her? Perhaps he didn't think she'd mind; that's what she deserved for being so forgiving and so submissive when someone had neglected her…

Her feet brought her to the bed and she collapsed on it; the old bed creaked under her weight. She gazed up at the ceiling.

That was it. She would just have to move in with Yuffie, just as she planned, because otherwise, the loneliness would get to her…

She let out a heavy sigh and she began humming a song in fragments. It was the song she sang with Marlene when she combed her hair, by some old composer from Midgar, whose name escaped her. She turned her head absently to the piano, trying to remember.

And then she saw a bouquet of flowers on the bench—white chrysanthemums and pink carnations, along with just the right amount of complementing, branch-like flowers; it was beautiful in its simplicity. And sheet music that she'd never seen before rested against piano; the name _Dionisi_ written in fancy script across the pristine white cover.

She might have to start playing again…

She shook her head in denial even as a small smile tugged up the edges of her lips, and she slipped off the bed to step over to the bench. There were chocolates, too, and she knew very well from which box they came …

A note lay across the flowers, a small light blue card folded over, and she picked it up so she could read the simple message:

"_Thank you, Tifa. V."_

Tears welled up in her eyes and she carefully gathered her flowers up in her arms, so she could sit on the bench. And she silently admonished herself for ever doubting Vincent Valentine.

Somehow, her gifts couldn't measure up to his, and she knew that from hereon, he wouldn't be too far from her thoughts.

She decided that she would just have to find him and thank him, then, for the lovely gifts.

* * *

Author's Note: Alright… Pink carnations mean gratitude. White chrysanthemums mean truth. And a pink rose means friendship… Hopefully, you guys will able to figure out why Vincent chose those, and you probably knew about all those Victorian flower meanings anyway. And you'll probably also dispute those meanings, but so does everyone else... but you know what, it's the sentiment that matters… and Marlene and Tifa will take the gesture for whatever they please… :glomps Vincent: So… hopefully that end was an "awww" factor… If not, then I failed miserably and we can discuss my punishment at a later date.

Why did I do that one scene from the flower shop lady's perspective? I don't know. I was bored. And I wanted to use the nickname Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Evil-Dude… poor Vincent. Tall, dark, and handsome, if you ask me… Ahem.

Anyway, Dionisi… Stefano Dionisi is the name of a VERY lovely actor, but I think the name Dionisi sounds like some famous composer… so I thought I'd use it. If there is a famous composer by that name, this guy has no relation to him whatsoever… Anyway, I guess he'd be as awesome as Mozart, if one had to compare him to someone…

…Oh great, now I want to write a mushy Vincent story with Tifa… after a goodbye like that. It's going to be a vicious cycle of "Oh yeah? Well, I've got a better gift for you, buddy." Oh well. I didn't want to rush their relationship, but I wanted to let you all know that there's "something" there…

:glomps Vincent:


End file.
